


Just a name

by Crepuscolaria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M, POV Edward Elric, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crepuscolaria/pseuds/Crepuscolaria
Summary: Mustang develops the ability to send across a whole message with just his name. He takes it and uses it, molding it to his moods, as if it is his to do what he wants with.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Just a name

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short fic born from a boring working day...it was written in one go and fueled by half an idea and instinct alone, but I liked it and so here it is <3

Ed has never given his own name much thought.  
He doesn’t know if he got it from a grandparent or if his parents had long discussions before setting on Edward. He likes to think it was his mother’s choice, but he can never know for sure.  
It has never felt like a significant matter. For as long as he can remember he has always been ‘brother’ or just Ed and that felt all right.  
  
When he gets in the military he becomes Major Elric for some, Boss for Havoc, Fullmetal Alchemist for a lot of people.  
But not for Mustang.  
He calls him Edward, spelling out every syllable. And that’s when he starts to think about his name.  
Why is the man so intent on using it? What does it mean that his own name feels foreign to his ears?  
  
What’s worst is that Mustang develops the ability to send across a whole message with just his name. He takes it and uses it, molding it to his moods, as if it is his to do what he wants with.  
  
_Edward_ , the bastard says with a smug smirk when he gets back from a mission, already knowing somehow he messed something up, amused and anticipating the moment he can berate him like a kid.  
He rolls the letters in his mouth like he would a whisky, and Ed would like nothing more than to trottle him and scream. And sometimes he does just that.  
  
_Edward_ , the colonel says, cutting the sound short, with a stern face, when he has to retrieve him from a hospital everytime that a mission goes awry.  
His name is so dry on those occasions he thinks it is a miracle the man manages to unstuck it from his throat at all.  
  
_Edward_ , Mustang says, cautious, when he gets stuck on another dead end and the weight of everything he has done comes crushing down on his shoulders, heavier and heavier with everyday his little brother lives as a suit of armor.  
He hates the sound of his name like that. It is slow, like his research, and pitiful. He is not a wild thing to be coaxed back to reason and he doesn’t need nor want pity. He always slams the door harder on his way out.  
  
Ed thinks for a long time that Mustang’s stubborness in using his name it’s the umpteenth way in which he tries to affirm his power and to piss him off.  
  
Then, when he gets back to Central an year after the Promised Day, and all the team is out drinking, Ed finally asks him about it.  
Mustang stares at him with a bottle of beer halfway to his mouth. His eyes are searching Ed’s face, but he keeps quiet, for once, and waits with a churning anxiousness in the pit of his stomach.  
  
“I didn’t want you to forget who you are. Fullmetal was the name of a weapon. I’ve been the Flame Alchemist, and nothing more, for sometime. Didn’t want you to go through that.”  
  
It’s more honest than any conversation he may have had or imagined with the man and it messes his head, scrumbling his thoughts and memories until everything morphes under a new light.  
The silence is dense between them after that, broken only by the team’s shenanigans.  
  
They all part ways after a couple more beers, but Mustang insists on chaperoning him to his new apartment, as if he needs the added protection.  
They chat about Al and Elysia and work, during the short walk, and it is strange to be comfortable like this after years of yelling at each other’s face. Ed still feels out of sorts after their brief exchange at the pub.  
Apparently he has misjudged many of their interactions.  
  
Upon reaching his apartment building, Ed turns towards the man with a grin.  
  
“This is my destination, Brigadier General!”  
  
He announces, mock saluting him.  
Ed goes to turn to the door, but a hand on his arm stops him.  
  
“Edward.”  
  
And there he goes again.  
But this is a new sound. It is pleading, hesitant, raw.  
Mustang is looking at him with fire in his eyes and a tense slant to his mouth.  
Ed doesn’t know when it happened exactly, but he realizes suddenly that he missed hearing his name, he missed the banter, he missed the face that he grabs in his hands. He pulls it down a bit to slot his mouth against Mustang’s.  
They get to the door together, still joined by hungry lips.  
  
When Roy calls him Edward, again and again, that night, it sounds like a prayer, light and breathy, tinted with incredulity and something else that he is too tender and vulnerable to put into words now.  
His name rolls from Roy’s tongue to his skin like a profane baptism and Ed never wants it to end.  
The man can make a whole language out of his name, he doesn’t care.  
It can be _his_ if he wants. Edward can be _his_ if he wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3 please let me know if you liked it!


End file.
